


Welcome to Strangetown

by 50shades_of_blue



Category: The Sims - Fandom
Genre: Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Gen, Other, Physical Abuse, the beakers are the fucking worst
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-03-09
Updated: 2019-03-11
Packaged: 2019-11-14 10:35:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,248
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18050876
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/50shades_of_blue/pseuds/50shades_of_blue
Summary: A man wakes up in the middle of the desert, knowing nothing about anything. He meets some interesting characters.





	1. Nameless

He wakes up. His eyes quickly widen to the scenery, startled. He hears  [ music ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=YRECjIHIO5A) playing.

 

He takes a confused glance around him, soaking in his surroundings. It looks like he’s in a shack made of tin and oak, with papers plastered onto the walls. In the corner appears to be an assortment of broken down equipment from...something. His eyes finally meet the radio on the lonesome table in the middle of the room.

 

He rises out from the disgustingly sad bed he woke up in. He walks up to the radio and turns it off before exiting through the door. The rays of the morning sun greet him.

 

And there he was-- a crash site in the  [ blinding desert ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=IibU529KmxU) . He analyzes his surroundings once more, staring intensely at the ship partially buried in the dirt. He gets a feeling he shouldn’t be here.

 

He briskly walks away from the ship and up the crater. As he reaches the rim, he sees the small town laid out before him. Then, a sharp realization stabbed him-- he has absolutely NO fucking idea where he is.

 

The closest home to the crater was very old-fashioned-- castle-like in structure. There was a certain twisted charm to it, drawing him to make a start towards it.

 

He takes a few minutes to make his way to the house, shielding his eyes from the burning sun. He tries to reflect upon the last 10 minutes of his life, but comes to blanks. There was something scorching him-- and it wasn’t the sun.

 

He finally made it up to the house, upon the hill. With a sharp rap, he knocks on one of its imposing doors. Within, he heard the angry ranting of a man. The man makes his way to the doors, staring intensely at the one on his doorstep through the glass. 

 

He swings open one of the doors, his eyes looking deep into the mysterious man in front of him.

 

“By the Watcher, can’t I have ONE moment to myself?!” he growls, only growing angrier by the minute.

 

“I..I uh..is this a bad time?” the mysterious man says quietly, trying not to piss him off further.

 

“Yeah, no shit it’s a bad time for some street rat to be interrupting me! I’ll have you know that I have assignments to do--”

 

“I apologize but...I just..I don’t know-- where are we?” 

 

And he sees her from not far behind the angry man. She is also staring intensely at the stranger on her doorstep, yet she doesn’t seem to be in the same mood as her irritated housemate.

 

The furious man only becomes more frustrated with the question. There were experiments to be done, discoveries to be made, yet he’s wasting his time talking to some nobody.

 

“Where are we? Where are we?! We’re on my property in this Watcher-forsaken town! Now-- why don’t you just leave?” he sneers, reaching out to grab the unwanted guest’s arm. Before making contact, the woman intervenes.

 

“Wait,” she starts, her voice  [ cold and monotone ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=YVcdzMfroEU) , “I would prefer if you didn’t start with this one, Loki. He seems genuinely lost. Perhaps we learn his name first before we go throwing people down stairs.”

 

And then it hit him. The man on the doorstep was more than lost in a new town-- he didn’t even know his own name! Everything prior to waking up in that abandoned shack was just...gone. It’s like he was a new person. The realization shook him to his core.

 

“I...I don’t know my name…”

 

The duo’s glares loosened, indicating their shock at his comment. They quickly rearrange themselves.

 

“You don't know your name?” the woman says, squinting her eyes through her orange-tinted glasses.

 

“No..” the nameless man says, looking off to the distance.

 

Loki takes a moment to analyze his guest. He was unusually tall, his grey skin shone in the sunlight, and his ears were pointed at the tips. The blond didn't even notice at first how odd he looked-- probably because he was too busy being infuriated.

 

This new information causes Loki to look back at his wife. With how she spoke to nameless over here, she already realized how truly bizarre he was.

 

“Where are you from?” she asks, pretending to care about his well-being.

 

Nameless shakes his head, visibly getting more upset. “I don't know! I just..I woke up in some weird shed by a weird spaceship.”

 

The woman holds up her hand, speaking gently, “Give me a moment to talk to my husband.”

 

She then pulls her husband inside, closing the glass doors.

 

“Wow,” she starts, her voice finally showing signs of true emotion, “it's as if we were blessed. The man doesn't even know his name.”

 

Inching out of the nameless’ sight, Loki's mouth creases into a wicked smile. “Maybe we were blessed, Circe. How long have we been talking about this for, huh?”

 

“Oh, too long.”

 

The man outside rubs his hands together, trying to go over in his mind some of his memories. But nothing came of it.

 

After a few minutes of chattering, Circe opens up the door again while Loki walks off to the kitchen.

 

“Oh, we're sorry about that. We were about to start on breakfast. Loki gets very touchy about his meals. Why don't you join us?”

 

And there was another thing he was just reminded of-- he was practically starving. It’s not like he can recall the last time he ate. And after his trek through the desert, the invitation was too tempting.

 

“Sure…”

 

Circe gives him a gingerly fake smile, holding her hands out to indicate her welcome. The man walks into the house, looking around. For some reason, his eyes were drawn to the big, bolted doors in the living room.

 

“It’s quite messy in here, I apologize. We didn’t expect guests,” Circe says in her falsely-friendly tone, still holding her smile. She motions him to the kitchen table.

 

Nameless didn’t really understand what she meant by “messy,” especially from what he could see. The house was embroidered by stone walls-- old-fashioned furniture and decor accented the living room. 

 

The kitchen was no different, which was right near the front doors. The red-haired woman motions him to a very specific seat at the table, unbeknowingly. He takes it.

 

Circe sits in the chair directly in front of him, putting her elbows on the table and cupping her hands together. 

 

“You really don’t remember your name?”

“No, I don’t...”

“What about where you came from?”

“Other than waking up in that shack? I don’t know either.”

“Ah, how...interesting.”

 

Circe has been taking several glances at Loki, who’s hard at work on the stove. The nameless man is staring down at the table, with a very sad look on his face.

 

“Don’t worry too much about it, buddy,” Circe says, putting one of her hands near him. “We can help jog your memory.”

 

After a few minutes of vigorously cooking, Loki begins to prepare their plates on the counter. He quickly looks back at Circe, nodding.

 

“Oh! The food’s done. Loki, can you be a dear and hand us our plates?”

 

Loki comes up to the table and carefully places the food down, making sure the two got the right plates. It’s barely a moment into having his food in front of him that nameless is stuffing his face.

 

Circe gives him a slight glare, trying not to break character. Loki joins them, biting his lip and looking at Circe for reassurance.

 

“You have quite the appetite, yeah? When was the last time you ate?” she tilts her head curiously.

 

For some reason, the man began to feel slightly tired. Perhaps it was from the stress or the sun.

 

“I don’t...I’m not sure about that either…”

“Well, eat as much as you’d like. We don’t mind.”

 

As he continued eating, the tiredness intensified, like he was about to pass out. Through the grogginess, he wanted to ask one more question.

 

“Where..where are we?”

“Here? Well...this is a nice little town in the desert. I grew up here, Loki arrived quite a bit later. It’s always nice to meet someone new.”

 

The nameless man’s eyelids began to drape over, his body pulling him closer and closer to the table.

 

Circe’s facade finally began to break down. Her cheerful smile twisted into an evil grin as she watched her guest fall into his half-eaten meal. Then, to match her expression, she said in the most wicked tone:

  
“ [ Welcome to Strangetown. ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=j0Mz_IqpZX8) ”


	2. Unfamiliar

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nervous has a weird dream.

_ The gentle spring breeze can be felt. A face can be seen, his skin green and his hair blond. He’s excitedly smiling. _

 

_ He’s speaking but nothing can be heard. Turning in all directions, everything looks so...unfamiliar. All that can be recognized is the blinding desert and the morning sun. _

\--

 

The awakening was so abrupt and so...sudden. The man rubs his face and takes a look around-- the same grey walls, the same sad bed, and the same untreadable staircase.

 

It’d been months since he arrived in his lonely prison, with the glass walls and door. There was no point in screaming or trying to break through the glass-- it’s like they were made specifically for him.

 

He’d never learned his own name, only taking the new one his captors gave him. “The Nervous Subject,” Circe would always call him, so now that’s what he’s referred to.

 

Nervous rises out of his bed, putting his hands onto his face. He’s thinking about the strange dream he’s woken from. It’s unlike the nightmares he’s had every night since being poisoned and put into his cage.

 

At this point, he was broken. He feels the pain of each day on his skin, in his body-- literally! The Beakers-- the name he heard in passing-- gave Nervous a new, sick purpose: to be their test subject.

 

They’d practically tortured him whenever they had the time, stretching their morbid curiosity wherever possible. It’d just become another routine to them and, unfortunately, one for him.

  
  


Nervous walks over to and sits in a chair the couple left in his room. With a piece of chalk he found in the bookshelf near the bed, he makes a tally onto the wall in front of him.

 

“64 days…” he says, solemnly looking at his markings. Two months he’d been trapped here.

 

He gets up once again, walking over to the bookshelf to pick up a notebook. Hooked onto it was a pen. Pulling off the pen, he begins to write in the notebook.

 

“ _ Day 64: _

_ It’s been so long since the last time I saw the sun. I mean, I did see it in a dream, but that doesn’t really count. Speaking of, I had a weird dream just now. I was in the body of what looked like a young woman, in someone’s backyard. There was also this green kid with a blond undercut. He was talking, but I couldn’t hear anything for some reason. I know I can’t remember shit about anything, but did I know these two? _ ”

 

Nervous closes the notebook, reattaches the pen, and puts it back into the bookshelf. He plants himself back onto his bed, pulling his legs up to his body.  _ Who the hell were those people? _ He thought, leaning his head into his legs.

 

Even after the past couple of months, he still couldn’t recall anything from his life prior to waking up in that shack. He’d spend hours in his bed thinking about anyone or anything that could link him to the past. But the only people he knew were Loki and Circe-- they were all he had.

 

But now? Nervous had more than just the evil couple-- a possible glimpse back into his past. Possibilities were more bountiful than ever.

 

Yet, this was only a glance. Only a moment to analyze over and over again, like a scientist. Like the so-called researchers the Beakers claim to be.

 

Nervous was brought back to reality by the familiar sound of a door opening. He braces himself.

 

Circe appeared to be the one he’d be meeting with today.  _ Great _ , he thinks,  _ the last person I wanted to see _ .

 

Neither of the Beakers were particularly fun to interact with. At least with Loki, though, Nervous wasn’t afraid of him or his explosive anger. It’s not like he could feel being kicked or thrown around by him.

 

Now, Circe was a different story. Ever since she’d poisoned him, he’d been afraid of her smile. 

 

There was something so...creepy about her. She had a way of entrapping him emotionally, manipulating him. One moment she would be kind and gentle-- the next she would be driving a scalpel through his skin in frustration.

 

For some odd reason, this was all familiar to Nervous. Getting beaten down, being yelled at-- the cycles of generosity and cruelty. But just as before, his mind was left blank.

 

Nervous had no more time to think about what-is and what-might-be-- all that mattered was  _ now _ . And now it was time for Circe to do whatever shitty thing she wanted to him.

 

\--

 

_ A mirror can be seen, fogged up. Eyes turning to the door. The handle is shaking-- a person is on the other side. Sounds are thought to be heard. _

 

_ Facing the mirror again, a hand wipes away the fog. Her face is now visible. Dark skin, green eyes… Blonde braids plait her hair. Yet she remains unfamiliar. _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading this chapter! I'm trying to work on this as much as I can before I end up losing interest, so stay tuned!

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading my story. I'm hoping to make it a series I can occasionally post chapters for, perhaps actually finish it.
> 
> This was heavily inspired by http://kamiiri.tumblr.com/tagged/strange/chrono/. If you got the time, I recommend you check it out.
> 
> If there are any broken links, give me a comment and I'll dig up the videos.


End file.
